


amare daemonium

by nateheywood



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Demons, Angst, Arguing, Banter, Demons, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Getting Together, LITERALLY, M/M, Minor Injuries, Self-Sacrifice, and by deal with it i mean fall in love, and they have to deal with it, basically len and ray get stuck together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2020-07-28 23:03:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20072080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nateheywood/pseuds/nateheywood
Summary: When Len accidentally saves Ray's life, they form a Bond - an unfortunate demonic rule. They're stuck together, quite literally, until Ray can fulfill his debt. It isn't as easy as it sounds, and Len and Ray (but mostly Len) have to learn to deal with each other in the meantime.Then, of course, Neron shows up.





	amare daemonium

**Author's Note:**

  * For [superatomic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/superatomic/gifts).

> okay, this got WAY out of hand - especially for a prompt I got a week and half before the due date. I have no idea what possessed me to write this much.
> 
> also thank you @beware-the-ravenstag for the latin help... turns out google translate DOESN'T know what it's talking about
> 
> Prompt: Ray Palmer/Leonard Snart. Fanfic. In a world where mythical creatures are very much real and threatening to mankind, one demon has chosen to protect a particular human after the human inadvertently saved their life - at first the human isn't so sure about having a guardian demon, but eventually warms to them. Maybe smut.
> 
> For @warrenhmuck! I really hope you like it!

Len is coming back from the grocery store, of all places, when he first hears them.

“Please, I haven’t done anything! Just let me go!”

“Like I’d believe something like you.”

There’s the sound of a gun cocking, and before Len can even think to stop and avoid whatever is going down in the alley he’s approaching, he’s rounded the corner to find a muscular, dark haired man pressed up against the wall with a gun pointed straight at his chest. It’s wielded by a smaller, grimy looking man, something wild in his eyes. It’s obviously a mugging, judging by the victim’s nice watch. Not surprising. It _ is _ Central City, after all.

Normally, Len wouldn’t blink an eye at it. Would continue along his merry way and let it happen, especially if a man that large refused to fight back. But _ this _particular mugging happens to be occurring in the shortcut back to the safehouse, and Len has approximately zero intentions of walking all the way around the block.

“Hey,” he drawls, and both men jump. “You’re in the way.”

“Oh, thank god,” the criminal says, which is a little strange. “You have no idea how scared I’ve been.”

“What?” Len asks, glancing between them.

“Please,” Tall, Dark, and Handsome says, “I haven’t done anything. I--”

“You have no idea what he is,” the criminal says with clear disgust. His tone rubs Len the wrong way, and he narrows his eyes at him.

“I don’t particularly care,” he tells him, unable to keep the sneer out of his voice. “Get out of the way.”

“You don’t understand,” the criminal says, almost pleading, “he’s a demon! He’s a--”

Suddenly, the scene shifts. This isn’t a mugging. It’s something else. 

Len feels his fist flying before he can weigh the pros and cons, unwilling to allow this bastard to spew out faggot or fairy or some other bullshit slur.

Len knocks the bastard out cold on the first punch, and he crumples to the concrete, gun clattering down next to him. Len swipes it up and tucks it into his jeans in one smooth motion. No need to let this happen again any time soon.

“Holy cow,” Tower of Muscle says from behind him. His voice is tinged with surprise and something like disbelief. “Thank you so _ much. _”

“Buy me dinner and we’ll call it even,” Len drawls, glancing back as he picks up his reusable grocery bag. Mick insists that they’re better than the plastic ones you get at the store.

The man blushes, and Len just barely bites back a laugh. It’s kind of cute, especially on a man of such _ mass. _“I’m going to owe you a lot more than dinner,” he mutters. Len raises an eyebrow at that. Was he flirting back? “But seriously. You didn’t have to do that.”

Len _ does _laugh at that, a sharp bark to show his incredulousness. “He was about to kill you,” he says, raising an eyebrow. “Besides, it’d almost be like betraying my own kind, letting you die like that. Not when I can do something about it.”

The man perks up. “You’re a demon too?”

Len frowns at him. Lots of odd conversation tonight, it seems. “That’s an odd way to put it,” Len says. The man tilts his head, frowning back. Like he has _ any _right to be confused. “I’ve had my fair share of men and women,” he clarifies, after a moment of just staring at each other. He turns to leave, but the man grabs his arm before he can take two steps.

He tenses. “Take your hand off of me,” he says lowly, and the man lets go quickly.

“Sorry,” he says, and he sounds sincere. “I just - you know I’m a _ demon _, right?” He puts a strange emphasis on ‘demon’, and Len is more than a little confused.

“Wh--” Len cuts himself off. Wait. He goes through the events of the night, and suddenly stray puzzle pieces start fitting themselves together. “Wait. Shit.”

Suddenly, Len wants more than anything to get the _ fuck _ out of there. The last thing you wanted to be doing was talking to a demon, especially alone and in the middle of the night. God, he’s such an _ idiot. _

He turns on his heel to run away, but the _ demon _grabs his arm again before he can get going. Len tries to jerk it away, but the demon holds fast. Panic begins to blossom in his chest, and he begins to pull with earnest.

“Let me _ go, _” he growls. “I--”

“You don’t understand,” the demon says. Len’s been hearing a little too much of that, lately. “You saved my _ life. _”

“So?” Len asks, still trying to yank away. The demon seems to be holding fast with frighteningly little effort. “You going to kill me for it?”

“_ No! _” the demon says with horror, and he lets go. Len stumbles, and then starts to sprint away, careful to avoid the direction of the safehouse, just in case the demon decides to give chase. Which, he does.

“_ Wait! _” the demon says, far too close for comfort. Len runs faster.

“_ Please, _” the demon says again, just as close. “Just listen to me.”

Len risks a glance behind him. The demon is not five feet behind him, feet unmoving as he hover-chases after Len. If he didn’t know better, Len might say he was being dragged along behind him.

Len screeches to a halt. Clearly, running is pointless. He whips around, and the demon slumps in relief.

“Thank you,” he says, just as sincerely as he’d said it before. It’s off putting. “I’m really - I’m not--” he takes a deep breath. “I’m not a bad guy.”

“Funny,” Len says dryly. He drops the groceries and reaches for the gun in his pants. Maybe it was a special demon gun - who knows what that guy had been doing when he had the demon pinned.

“Woah! Wait,” the demon says, putting out his hands, and Len freezes. The demon gives him what he thinks might be a reassuring smile. “I really don’t mean you any harm.”

“You’re a _ demon. _”

“I know I am,” the demon says tiredly. “But I’m not like most demons. Besides,” he glances to the side, “I couldn’t kill you, even if I wanted to.”

Len lowers his arm, intrigued. His _ danger! _senses aren’t pinging, and he’d heard that demons can move faster than bullets. So shooting would be pointless, anyways. “What does that mean?” he asks suspiciously. 

“You saved my life,” the demon says, “that means we have a bond. I owe you a life debt.”

Len raises an eyebrow. “Is this some sort of demonic law?” he asks. “You owe anyone who saves you a life debt?”

“Exactly,” the demon exhales, seemingly relieved that Len has finally let down his guard. He smiles, and Len blinks at the blindingly white grin. “Well, we might as well introduce ourselves, since we’re bonded, right?” He’s suddenly very cheerful, chipper, almost, and Len takes a second to reorient.

“Leonard,” he says, careful not to share his full name. He’d heard not to share your true name to the fae that creep along the Central Green Forest. Maybe that applies to demons as well. “But most call me Len.”

“Nice to meet you!” the demon says, and it’s strange to pair the word ‘demon’ with someone so _ friendly. _Len was starting to believe his claim of ‘not being like other demons’. “I’m Razeal.”

He says it like _ Raise-eye-el. _ Len raises an eyebrow. “Nice to meet you, _ Ray. _” Ray flushes, a pleased expression crossing his face. 

“Ray?” he asks, and Len shrugs. 

“Flows easier,” he drawls, and Ray seems to consider it before nodding.

“I’ve never had a nickname before,” he says. “I like it.” Len smirks.

“I’m glad,” he says. “Now, I’d better head home. I suggest you do the same.” He turns away from Ray then, not bothering to read his expression, and starts walking home. 

After a few minutes of walking, he gets an uneasy prickle at the back of his neck and whips around. It’s Ray, just a little too close behind him.

“Len--” he starts, but Len interrupts him.

“If I wasn’t clear enough,” he says, just a little sharply. “I’d like you to _ go away _.”

“I know, but--”

“No buts. Go home, Ray.”

He starts walking again, only to stop a few seconds later when Ray speaks again.

“I can’t!” he exclaims, and Len narrows his eyes at him. “I owe you a life debt--”

“I _ get it _ ,” Len says, this time as sharply as he can manage. “And believe me, I _ will _ call in that favor, but not tonight.” He would. Having a demon at his beck and call was _ huge _. He would just have to make sure not to waste it.

“No, that’s--” Ray takes a step forward, and Len takes two steps back. Ray is dragged along with him after that first step, almost like he’s pressed up against a moving wall.

Len furrows his eyebrows. “What the-?”

“We’re _ Bonded, _” Ray says earnestly. This time, Len can hear the capital ‘B’. “I can’t leave until I’ve fulfilled my debt.”

“And that means you can’t be more than five feet from me?” Len asks flatly. Something like horror is creeping up his spine.

Ray grimaces. It’s enough confirmation.

“Jesus,” Len breathes. Ray rolls his lips between his teeth, looking sheepish.

“There’s a reason most demons avoid good people,” he says, and suddenly Len has a thousand questions about whether or not demons prey on the bad, or turn the good, or if they merely suggest you do bad things or force you to - but that can wait. There are bigger problems at hand.

“I wouldn’t exactly call myself a ‘good person’,” Len sneers. “What else does the Bond do?”

“My life is tied to yours,” Ray says, a little hesitantly. Len must be doing a bad job of hiding how murderous he’s feeling. “So I die if you do.”

Len’s heart drops into his stomach. “_ What? _” he snaps, and Ray raises his hands placatingly.

“Don’t worry!” he says quickly. “Don’t worry. It only goes one way - because I’m the one who owes the debt, you’ll be fine if I die first. I only die when you do because that means I never fulfilled my debt, and never will.”

“Sounds awfully moral for a demonic law,” Len says, heart still pounding.

“That’s because it’s an angelic one,” Ray says. His voice is bitter, and it sounds wrong coming out of someone who seems so cheerful. _ Demon, _Len reminds himself. He can’t let himself forget that. “An unfortunate remnant that us demons have to contend with.”

“Fallen angels,” Len says. “Right.”

Ray bites his lip, eyes a little distant. “Right.”

They sit for a moment, and Len shifts uncomfortably in the silence. “Well,” he says. “Anything else? Do I bleed when you bleed? Can we feel each other’s feelings, now? Hear each other’s thoughts?”

“No,” Ray says, blinking away that distant look. He still has a melancholy expression. “Nothing like that.”

“Alright,” Len says slowly, mind whirring. He glances around at the skyscrapers surrounding them, and at the traffic racing down the street. “Let’s get this over with.”

“What?” Ray says, frowning. He tilts his head as if to emphasize his confusion, and Len can’t help to think of a puppy. _ Jesus _. 

“To get rid of the Bond,” Len explains. “I throw myself off a building and you catch me. Debt repaid, Bond fulfilled, we all get to go home safe and sound.”

“Oh, no,” Ray says, and he sounds more peppy with every word. He must like explaining things. Or maybe he just likes telling people they’re wrong. “It doesn’t work like that. It has to be a genuine threat - if you fall knowing that I’ll catch you, then your life was never in danger, and I didn’t actually save your life.”

“In what world does that make sense?”

Ray doesn’t seem to register the sharpness of his tone, because he’s just as cheerful when he answers. “The demon one.”

Len is tempted to bang his head against the brick wall next to him, but he restrains himself. “I’m not taking you home with me,” he says stubbornly. _ Not to my baby sister. _

“Do you…” Ray hesitates. “Do you want me to take you to mine?” He sounds like he doesn’t expect Len to say yes, and he’s right. Len only has to picture Hell for a split second before he’s shaking his head.

“I’m already destined for Hell,” he drawls. “I have no desire to speed up the process.”

Ray frowns at him like he disagrees, but he doesn’t say anything about it. Good. He doesn’t know Len - doesn’t know what he’s done. Doesn’t understand that this whole saving-a-life thing was a first.

“Where should we go?” he asks instead, and Len sighs. There aren’t many places - all but the safehouse they’re staying in have been compromised, and Len hasn’t gotten around to finding more yet. He certainly isn’t taking a demon to any of their personal houses, and he’d rather die than sleep on the streets.

The safehouse it is.

“Fine,” Len says shortly, and he starts walking, past Ray and back the way they came. He can hear Ray jogging to catch up - being dragged must not be as fun as it looks. 

“Where are we going?” Ray asks. Len ignores him in favor of digging out his phone, flipping it open and hitting two on speed dial.

“Is that a _ flip phone _?” Ray asks in horror, and Len flips him off.

“Harder to trace,” he explains, and then Mick picks up.

“Boss?”

“Plug your ears,” he snaps at Ray, and the demon obeys. Len blinks in surprise. Alright.

He cups his hand around the phone’s microphone. “I’m bringing someone home,” Len says to Mick, keeping his voice quiet. “I need you to make sure Lisa is out of sight.”

“Who is it?” Mick asks sharply, and Len can hear the faint sounds of his boots hitting the concrete as he goes to find Lisa.

“A demon,” Len says after a moment. “Is John there?”

There’s a brief pause. “What the hell did you get yourself into?” Mick eventually growls, and Len grimaces.

“I’ll explain when we get there. Is John there?”

“Yeah,” Mick says after another pause. “He’s here.”

“Thank god,” Len says, and he feels some of his tension release. John Constantine, their resident demonologist. It was something they’d discovered a need for after a disastrous run in with a leprechaun at the casino. He’s the best, but flighty. Len had fought his long absences at first, but it became clear that it was either the absences or no John at all. His experiences with lesser warlocks has told him that the former is the best choice.

“I’ll warn ‘im,” Mick grumbles. “Be quick.” He hangs up, and Len flips his phone shut. He looks at Ray.

Ray is still plugging his ears, and has even started humming, eyes off somewhere to the right, as if to avoid reading Len’s lips. Len takes a moment to stare in astonishment before Ray glances at him. He takes his fingers out of his ears when he finds Len with no phone.

Len stares at him a little longer before handing him a reusable grocery bag. “Here,” he says, and dumps it into Ray’s waiting hand. He feels suddenly like a grandmother. “Might as well make yourself useful.”

Ray beams. “Always happy to help!”

He takes two more bags, leaving Len with only one. Len is having a hard time wrapping his head around _ this _being a demon.

“Not like other demons, huh?” Len snorts, and Ray shrugs, cheerful as ever.

“Nope,” he says, popping the ‘p’.

Must be proud of it, too.

-

Mick and John are waiting at the kitchen table for them when they arrive, solemn looks on their faces. Len notes the heat gun resting against Mick’s lap, his fingers wrapped around the handle, and John’s distinct lack of a cigarette. They must be expecting something big.

“Where should I put these?” Ray asks from behind Len. He’s lifting up the groceries.

Len looks back towards John and Mick. John seems unfazed, but Mick is frowning, confused. Len can relate.

“On the table,” Len says, after a long pause. Ray hums an acknowledgment and moves further into the house. Both John and Mick stand as Ray approaches, ready for a fight. Ray doesn’t seem to notice, smiling at them cheerfully.

When Ray gets to be around five feet away from Len, Len finds himself trailing after him. He isn’t moving his legs.

Great. Unfortunate that _ this _aspect of the bond seems to be a two-way street.

At least he also has groceries to put away.

“Oh, Jesus,” John says, realization dawning on his face as Ray reaches the table. His eyes are on Len’s unmoving feet. “You’ve Bonded.”

“What?” Mick snaps. They all ignore him.

“Do you have a way to get rid of it?” Len asks, and John’s lips tighten. That’s a no, then.

“Jesus Christ,” John says. “You absolute _ muppet. _What were you thinking, savin’ the life of a demon?”

“I didn’t _ know, _” Len snaps back. “He doesn’t exactly have a label on him!”

“What are you two talking about?” Mick snarls in frustration. He has his gun pointed at Ray, who has his hands raised up in surrender.

“It’s not a big deal!” Ray says to John, a little desperate. He seems almost afraid of him. “I’m not going to hurt him!”

“Of course you aren’t,” John says derisively, comfortable around magic in a way Len never will be. “The Bond won’t allow it.”

“No, I mean--” Ray exhales in frustration. “I wouldn’t anyway! I don’t like hurting people, I--”

“What a load of bollocks,” John interrupts. “What kind of an ex--”

“He wouldn’t,” Len says. “At least, I don’t think so.”

John gives him a pitying look, like Len doesn’t know what he’s talking about. It makes Len bristle. “He may be good at actin’, pet, but there’s no way--”

“What the _ hell _is going on here?” Mick roars, and they all jump at the sudden shout, a startling shift from the lowered voices they’d been using to hiss at each other.

“I agree,” says a voice from the hallway. Len whips his head over to see Lisa leaning in the doorway of her room, one eyebrow raised. “What the hell is going on, Lenny?”

Len feels his stomach twist at the thought of a demon knowing what his sister looks like, knowing who to target if he can’t get Len. But the cat’s out of the bag, now, and if Ray is truly who he says, there shouldn’t be anything to worry about anyway.

John sighs, dragging a hand over his face. Mick is still holding Ray at gunpoint, looking furious, and Ray looks a little more than alarmed, eyes on John. He must know who John is - most demons do. Lisa mostly just looks unimpressed, if a little irritated at being kept out of the discussion.

“Let’s all sit down,” Len drawls, trying to appear put together even when he’s completely out of his depth. “Then we can all say our piece without yelling.”

They all sit down, mismatched chairs scooting against the concrete of the warehouse. Len nabs a fry from that night’s fast food, the final reminder that they had needed groceries.

“So,” he says, kicking his legs up on the table. “Here’s what happened.”

He tells them, and slowly the other three Rogues relax, their alarm fading into something like exasperation, for John, and amusement, for Mick and Lisa.

“That is the funniest thing I have ever heard,” Lisa says when Len finishes. “You of all people--” she bursts into laughter, and soon after Mick’s booming chuckle joins her. Even John cracks a smile.

“You’re sure you can’t do anything?” Len asks John sharply, mood quickly souring. John shakes his head.

“Sorry,” he says, accent warping the word strangely. “Some magic is too powerful to risk tamperin’ with.”

Len nods once, and stands up. Ray copies him, and Len sneers at the reminder that wherever he goes, Ray _ has _to follow.

“I’m going to bed,” he snarls more than says to the rest of the table, and Lisa winks, laughter fading enough to snark something at him.

“Goodnight, you two,” she says coyly, and Mick guffaws. Len rolls his eyes, and starts towards his bedroom, Ray trailing behind.

The problem of the bed dawns on Len as soon as they enter his room. There’s room for both of them on the queen sized mattress, but this is one line Len with _ not _cross. His privacy is being breached quite enough.

They both stare at it for a moment, a tense silence coming over the room. Len himself is tense, tired of this situation already. Privacy is something he prioritizes above most things, and to have it so thoroughly invaded has him on edge. He’s gearing up for a fight, ready to snap at Ray to take the floor, when Ray beats him to it.

“I’ll sleep on the floor!” he says, and he gets down onto the concrete and lays down. “I don’t want to invade any more of your privacy than strictly necessary.”

Len thinks about snapping something like _ I don’t recall giving you the option, _but all the fight has drained out of him at the sight of Ray on the bare concrete, already shutting his eyes.

Len heaves a sigh. “Here,” he says, going over to the bed and throwing one of the pillows at Ray. He rips off the blanket as well. 

“Oh,” Ray says, looking at him with the largest eyes Len has ever seen. “You really don’t need to give me the blanket.”

Len shrugs. “I like the cold.”

Ray nods, placing the pillow under his head. Len gives him a once over.

“I’m sure Mick has something that might fit you,” he says, and Ray grins at him.

“That won’t be necessary,” he says, and he snaps his fingers. Suddenly, he’s in a matching pair of blue silk pajamas. He shrugs at Len’s stare. “Perks of being a demon, I guess!”

“And you couldn’t fabricate yourself a pillow?”

Ray’s grin turns sheepish. “I’m not a very powerful demon. My powers seem to be limited to clothes and my personal appearance.”

Len thinks about making a comment about his hair, but there’s another part of his sentence he’s a little more curious about. “You talk like you’re new to this whole,” he motions to Ray’s general self, “_ demon _thing.”

Ray’s expression shuts down, and then turns sad. “You could say that,” he says, and his eyes get that distant look again.

Len wants to push so very, very badly. He doesn’t like not knowing everything about everyone - he’s built an empire around doing just that. But he’s tired, and he doesn’t know if he really wants to delve into Ray’s personal thoughts and feelings. He wants to be awash of this Bond and this demon as soon as possible - he doesn’t need to forge a connection in the meantime.

“Goodnight, Ray,” Len sighs, and he flicks off the light.

“Goodnight!”

Len crawls into bed, and his head has just barely touched the pillow when he hears Ray start snoring. Jesus Christ. He doesn’t think he’s ever been so resigned to his fate before.

He’s wide awake, a little paranoid with a demon sleeping next to him, even if the demon is practically made out of puppies and sunshine. He keeps waiting for a catch, a shift, and the longer he waits the tenser he gets. It reminds him of the spells his father would get into, buying he and Lisa sweets and letting them stay up until whenever they wanted. It would last a few weeks, just enough time for Len to relax, back in the early days, and then Lewis would snap again.

He jerks himself out of that train of thought. A lot of things remind him of Lewis if he thinks hard enough.

He goes through plans for tomorrow instead, making lists of supplies and reviewing blueprints to keep his mind busy. It’s comforting and familiar, and soon, Len is falling asleep despite himself. He’s just about to drift off when he remembers.

The heist. Tomorrow. 

Ray. The Bond.

He snaps his eyes open. What the _ fuck _is he going to do with Ray on the heist? Stay out of it? No, he’s needed on this job - Lisa hadn’t bothered to study the blueprints, and he can’t expect her to memorize them in a day. He’s going to have to take Ray, tell him to keep close and hope for the best. 

He thumps his head against his pillow in frustration. This is a big job. If they fuck it up….

He’s going to track down that greasy little criminal that had Ray at gunpoint, and he’s going to murder him. 

-

Mick and Lisa aren’t pleased with the addition of Ray, but they both agree that Len can’t stay out of this heist unless they want an 80% chance of completely screwing things up. This way, they only have a 75% chance.

They’re crouched outside the museum, breath fogging in the autumn cold and reviewing their roles. Lisa is already inside, disabling the security cameras and any lasers they might have.

“Mick,” Len whispers. “East entrance. Ray and I will take the west. Meet me at the Degas at 1400.”

Mick grunts, and he starts around the building, heat gun out of its holster and at the ready.

Len turns to look at Ray. He looks good in the gear Len had given him, especially the too-tight black sweater they’d stuffed him in, but Len unfortunately doesn’t have time to admire him in all of his glory. “Got your gun?” Ray nods and lifts it up. His hold is weak, bordering on limp, and Len places his hand over his without thinking.

It’s like a spark runs through him, even through the gloves, and Len forces himself to keep holding on instead of letting go. He ignores Ray’s startled glance, and squeezes his fingers tighter around the gun. “Hold it tightly,” he says, and he makes himself sound cold and aloof. “You look like an idiot.” He lets go, and he’s definitely imagining the disappointment on Ray’s face. He must also be imagining his own.

“Follow me,” he says, and he stands. “Stay close. Don’t talk unless it’s an emergency, and for the love of God, do _ not _touch anything.”

Ray nods. “Sir yes sir!” he whisper-yells, and Len just barely keeps himself from rolling his eyes.

“Come on.” He starts towards the museum, and he can feel Ray stick close behind. He can feel the heat of him as he picks the lock, and as they enter the building cautiously. It’s distracting. Len has half a mind to tell him to step back.

They creep around, and Ray is eerily silent, his footsteps nonexistent. When Len glances back at him, he swears he sees his eyes flick black. He feels a little shiver run down his spine at the sight, and he is careful to not look back again.

They’re close to the Degas when Ray’s heat suddenly vanishes. Len stops, looking around. Ray is a few feet away, just barely at the limit of their Bond, and admiring a rusty Roman helmet in a glass case.

“_ Ray _!” Len hisses, and Ray jerks his head up.

“Sorry!” he whispers back, and he starts tiptoeing back to Len’s side. He’s still eerily silent, but the tiptoeing completely erases any sort of horror Len might have felt otherwise. Len lets out a breath of relief when Ray’s around a foot away.

It’s too early.

Ray’s shoulder bumps into a freestanding Roman bust, and it falls to the ground with an incredibly loud crash. The earsplitting alarm system starts not three seconds later.

“Oh, god_ dammit, _” Len snarls, and he grabs Ray’s wrist and yanks him over the rest of the way. “We gotta get out of here!”

“I’m so sorry!” Ray says. “I didn’t--”

“I don’t care,” Len snaps. “Let’s _ go _!”

They start running. They almost immediately run into a guard, and Len doesn’t hesitate to shoot him with the cold gun. 

“Did you just kill him?” Ray shouts at they run past the guard, now crumpled to the floor. He sounds horrified.

“Possibly!” Len shouts back. “Shouldn’t that be good for your rep down in Hell?”

“I don’t _ have _ a rep!” Ray sounds distressed now. “I don’t _ want _one!”

“Who doesn’t want a name for himself?”

“Someone who doesn’t want to be found!”

“Oh? What did sweet little Ray do to get himself in trouble with _ demons _?”

“I certainly didn’t kill anyone!”

“What do you want me to say?” Len kicks the door to the cafe open, setting off more alarms. Might as well take the shortcut if they’ve already made themselves known. “‘Sorry’?”

“Maybe!”

“Maybe I wouldn’t have had to kill him if you’d just followed instructions!” They’re out of the building now, and Lisa’s already there with the car. They tumble into the back seat. Now they had to wait for Mick, although they’d peel away at the first sound of sirens.

“You didn’t have to kill him at all!” Ray says, at a reasonable level now.

“You can talk when you manage to finish a heist successfully,” Len says, jabbing a finger into Ray’s chest. “Besides. I didn’t kill him - I have a deal with the Flash, after all.”

“You--” Ray glances down at his gun, and something seems to click. Len can practically hear the bell _ ding! _“You’re Captain Cold!”

“The one and only.”

“So Captain Cold _ is _in cahoots with the Fl--”

Lisa cuts him off, pointing out the windshield. “There he is!”

Mick is sprinting towards them, and Lisa leans over to open the passenger door for him. Mick throws himself in, slamming the door shut behind him, and Lisa peels off, tires squealing and throwing her passengers all to the left. They speed down a neighborhood road, and just in time to see the police lights coming down the opposite road.

They drive in relieved silence the rest of the way home, and the conversation only starts once they’ve dumped the car in an alleyway a few blocks from the house and have entered, kicking off their boots and annoying John and his book away from the living area and into his room.

“Let me guess,” Lisa says over a bottle of beer. “Ray screwed up.”

Ray puffs up, offended. “Hey!” Len shoots him a glare, and the demon deflates. “Yeah,” he says dejectedly. “Sorry.”

“That’s four million down the drain,” Mick growls, and Ray shrinks even further into his seat.

“I’ve gotta say,” Len drawls. “This is the _ opposite _ of what saving a life looks like.”

“I’m so sorry,” Ray says. He’s too sincere - Len doesn’t think he’s had a sincere apology given to him since Lisa had accidentally hit him in the head with her doll. He looks away from Ray’s earnest expression. “I’ll do better next time!”

“You’d better,” Mick says darkly.

Len pushes down his own irritation. There’s no point in getting angry now - and it _ had _been Ray’s first heist. It’s just unfortunate that it was such a high risk one.

He’ll do better next time. He _ has _to.

-

The worst part about Ray constantly screwing up jobs is probably that Len can feel their Bond thickening with every avoidance of the police, Ray’s debt to Len building every time he saves their hides.

Len hasn’t been able to stay home on _ any _jobs since the Degas, allowing Ray to:

One: mistake a guard for Mick and call him over to their hiding place.

Two: trap he and Len in the stairwell by _ purposefully _ closing the door behind them. Len had _ told _him it was an automatic lock.

Three: turned the lasers back on while Lisa had been in the middle of crossing their path. Len had thought that being the tech guy would hold less risk for Ray, but it turns out to be the only screw up that actually results in an alarm blaring. Len will not suggest tech again.

Currently, they’re on their fourth job since that initial first disaster of a job, three weeks into Len and Ray’s new Bond, and Ray hasn’t put even his pinky toe out of line. Len doesn’t trust it at all.

“Okay,” he breathes out, eyes on the prize. “Want me to review the plan?”

“No,” Ray says, and then: “Well, maybe. Just to be safe.”

Len bites back a groan and nods towards the glass case, not taking his eyes off of it. It holds the Emsworth Sapphire, worth millions, and it’s Len’s biggest move since last year’s visiting diamond collection. He can’t guarantee he won’t murder Ray if he fucks this up.

“We’re four feet away,” Len tells him, tapping the floor where they’re crouching. “The lasers start three feet away. We can’t turn them off--”

“Because Mick broke the wire cutters this morning.”

Len sits back on his haunches and finally tears his eyes away from the sapphire to give Ray an unimpressed stare. “So you _ do _ know the plan.”

Ray smiles uncertainly. “Well, we did go over it three times before coming in, and once while we were walking--”

“We’ll stop reviewing it,” Len says, enunciating every word with irritation, “when you start following it.”

Ray nods sharply, expression determined. “Understood.” Len sighs. He wants to rub his temples, but he doesn’t want to put any oil on his gloves.

“Now, remember,” Len says. “Stay _ right there, _ and _ do not move. _” He looks back at Ray to convey the importance of this with his expression as well as his words. Ray nods, eyes serious. “Good,” Len says slowly, and he starts to creep forward.

He dodges the lasers, twisting this way and that, and he can practically feel Ray’s eyes boring into him. He certainly wouldn’t mind a little attention from Ray, and he can only hope it isn’t because he looks ridiculous bending around the little green lines.

He lifts his foot over a laser around three feet off the ground, and he sees another laser just barely scraping the tile right where his foot should land, leaving him balancing on one leg and scanning for another place to step.

He never finds one.

The thing is, Len doesn’t see the laser until his foot is about halfway down, and it probably gives off a pretty convincing impression that he’s about to trigger the alarm. He hears Ray gasp.

“_ Wait _!” he cries, and he grabs the back of Len’s sweater, parka forgone in favor of something more skintight. Ray had seemed particularly interested, and Len had fought off a blush like some fourteen year old kid. 

Ray yanks him back, and then yanks him down as he falls forwards, and they end up in a heap on the ground, Len’s head resting on Ray’s barrel of a chest and Ray’s feet still technically where they’re supposed to be, even if the rest of Ray isn’t.

Len stares at the ceiling in stunned silence. The alarms begin to go off.

“Len?” Ray says quietly, and Len springs up, ‘accidentally’ whacking Ray’s side as he does so. Anger is suddenly pumping more adrenaline through his veins than fear of the police, and he sneers at Ray’s pathetic expression.

“_ Dammit _ !” he hisses, and he yanks Ray to his feet none too gently. “Let’s _ go! _”

They sprint out, and it’s almost an exact recreation of their very first heist together. There just isn’t any talking, this time.

-

“Do you understand how much money that was?” Len snarls at Ray. “Do you understand what our fence is going to do?”

They’re back at the safehouse, all crowded into the tiny living room and standing in an angry, fretful circle. They lost the sapphire, and there’s no way to go back before security is inevitably heightened. Two million dollars down the drain. Their fence is going to be pissed, although he’d have to work to match what Len is feeling right now.

“You’ve cost us,” Len hisses. “If I had known--”

“You were about to trigger the alarms!” Ray says. “I was--”

“I had it under control!” Len throws his hands up in the air. “It’s _ hilarious _ that you thought you knew better than me,” he sneers, “You’re _ incompetent. _If I had known-”

“If you’d known what?” Ray asks, and he would sound more threatening if Len couldn’t see his lip wobbling, albeit angrily. “That I would be such a burden? You wouldn’t have saved my--”

“Maybe!” Len says loudly. “I should have just ignored it--”

“I thought you were a good person back then,” Ray says. “And maybe you could be. But you certainly aren’t now, if you really think that.”

Len had denied it then, and he would still deny it now - he doesn’t think he has that core of goodness in him that Barry seems to believe in so earnestly. But it still stings. Badly. He curls his lip and glares at Ray. “I’m not a good person,” he says lowly. “Never have been, never will be. But at least I’m not a _ demon _.”

Ray stiffens. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says quietly, and Len raises an eyebrow. 

“Lenny,” Lisa says, like she knows he’s searching for the sharpest barb to throw back at Ray, like she knows Ray’s assessment hurt worse than he’s letting on. She probably does. Len ignores her.

“I think you had to become a demon for a reason,” Len shoots back icily. “You had to fall at some point.”

He strikes gold - Ray actually steps back like Len has hit him. But it doesn’t feel good, like it normally does. Len’s stomach twists with guilt when he looks at Ray’s hurt expression, so he turns his head to the side, looks at the little tear in the wallpaper.

It was too far, but the thought of apologizing has him cringing away in embarrassment. Admitting he’s wrong is not his strong suit.

“You’re right,” Ray says suddenly. Len whips his head around to look at him again, surprised. “I did fall.” All of Ray’s anger is gone, leaving hurt and hesitation. His expression flickers like he’s debating with himself about something, studying Len like he’s looking for something in his face. He seems to come to a conclusion fairly quickly, however, because he draws himself up not long after he’s done speaking. “Can we talk in your room?”

Len frowns. “Wh--”

“We’re talking in your room,” Ray decides, and then he drags Len into the bedroom in an uncharacteristic moment of decisiveness. Len is too caught off guard to complain properly, instead settling for an angry _ hey! _

Once they’re in the room, however, they don’t talk. They stare at each other in tense silence, and after a few moments Len goes to shut the door.

The door slams itself shut without any help, just narrowly missing Len’s fingers, and he jumps as it does. 

“_ Jesus _!” he snaps. He holds his hand close to his chest, whipping around to glare at Ray. Ray slumps, clearly guilty.

“I’m sorry,” he says, “I closed it harder than I meant to.”

Len looks at the two screws that had fallen out of the hinges, now rolling around on the floor. “Was that your ‘minor demon powers’ at work?”

Ray frowns. “I… they’ve never really done that before.” He sits on the bed and pats the spot next to him. Len stubbornly remains standing, but he does cross the room in order to look Ray in the face. Some sort of confession was coming up, and he doesn’t want Ray to feel like he doesn’t care. Because he _ does. _

Len blinks at the realization. Jesus, he really is going soft. Three weeks of no separation will do that to a man.

He ignores Ray’s obvious disappointment when he doesn’t sit. This is already getting a little too intimate to be comfortable.

“So,” he says, crossing his arms. “You wanted to talk.”

“I do,” Ray says. His eyes are sad. “You mentioned my fall, and I know it sounds strange, but I wanted to tell you about it.”

Len nearly straightens up at attention. “You’re going to explain why you’re ‘not like other demons’,” he uses air quotes around Ray’s words, and Ray nods solemnly, eyes trailing from Len’s and off to the side. He visibly swallows.

“Yeah.”

“You said I didn’t know what I was talking about,” Len says suddenly, uncrossing his arms. He leans back against the wall, studying Ray’s face. There’s something immeasurably sad there, a far cry from his usually cheeriness or even the anger he had not five minutes ago. 

“That’s because you didn’t,” Ray says, voice hard, and then he winces. “No, that’s unfair.”

“It’s completely fair,” Len says, and he shrugs at the surprised look Ray gives him. “I didn’t know what I was talking about.” _ I just knew it would hurt you. _

Ray looks at him for a moment. “I fell around a year ago,” he says. There’s a long pause, Ray’s eyes growing distant, and Len doesn’t dare say anything. “I loved being an angel. I was Razeal, angel of technology and invention.” His chest puffs up with pride, but his eyes are still sad. “There was this guardian, Nora,” he continues, and his expression softens. Len feels a little pit of something open up in his chest at that expression, something like irritation and longing mixed up into one. “She was wonderful. She - she helped me let loose, taught me that some people could be saved instead of smitten, that change was possible, that change was what made the human race so special.”

“Was she your girlfriend?” Len says. He means for it to be teasing, but it comes out snide. Luckily, Ray doesn’t seem to pick up on it. His obliviousness has its perks.

“She could have been,” Ray says, a little wistfully. Len suddenly realizes what the pit in his chest is - jealousy. The girlfriend comment hadn’t helped. “But we didn’t have enough _ time. _” Ray’s voice grows anguished, and he looks at Len with such sadness that Len has to look away. Something within him resonates too soundly with that sadness.

“You see, Nora broke the rules,” Ray says. His voice sounds wet. “Mostly minor ones. Sometimes I would break them with her, when they seemed unfair. But she broke a big one, somehow. She made a deal with this demon, _ Mallus _ ,” his voice fills with derision and hatred. Len doesn’t know how to put that emotion to the sweetness of Ray. “She was just trying to save her charge - Mona, I think - who had gotten tangled up with this demon. She was doing _ good. _

But the Principalities found out, and they cast her out from Heaven and burned off her wings - they said it was the ‘final straw’. I think that’s the first time my faith in the Angels’ goodness was shaken.” Ray looks at Len as if he’s just now realized this. “Maybe that’s why it happened so -- anyway,” he takes a deep breath, “I tried to defend her. I tried to explain why she’d been mingling with a demon, and they turned their noses up at me. Pulled out this long list of disobediences I’d done with Nora, and then accused me of associating with a demon. They meant Nora.” Ray laughs, and there are tears in his eyes. “_ Nora. _So they cast me out too.”

Len sucks in a deep breath. “Jesus.”

“He certainly didn’t help,” Ray says, and then grimaces. His eyes turn heavenward. “Sorry,” he says to the ceiling.

“You still have respect for these people?” Len asks, disbelieving. He’s more than a little angry on Ray’s behalf. He’s always known Heaven wasn’t really worth the hype.

“I still respect Him,” Ray says, passionately. “I respect what we-_ they _ stand for.” He runs a hand through his hair. “It just got a little screwed up. I _ miss _ being an angel, Len,” he says. “I miss it _ so much. _” His voice is longing, blended with sadness and pain. Such bareness is hard to listen to.

Len raises an eyebrow. “So you fell,” he says. “And you ended up here. Doing what?”

“Well,” Ray says, tilting his head. “I spent some time in Hell. But I escaped.”

“Escaped?” 

Ray ignores him. “I can’t perform selfless miracles anymore, so I try to help by screwing over the scumbags. That’s what I was trying to do to that guy the night you found me,” he says voice a little more excited now. “He was bothering a girl so I took him aside. Next thing I know, he has a gun on me, claiming that it’s rock salt and that it would hurt like hell.”

“Very nice story,” Len says patiently. “Now tell me what you meant by _ escaped. _”

There’s a long pause. “When you first fall, you get a sort of mentor,” Ray starts slowly, face a little pale. Len frowns at it. “Mine was - was an older demon named Neron. He taught me everything about being the worst kind of demon you could possibly be. He taught me how to collect souls, how to torture, how to trick, how to-” Ray cuts himself off, words blending into an incomprehensible ramble. He sucks in a deep breath. He’s completely white now. “His teaching was very hands on - the things that I’ve _ done, _Len, you were right, being a demon is so much worse, I--”

“Shut up,” Len says suddenly. His heart feels like it’s about to break out of his chest and shatter into a million pieces on the floor. Ray’s mouth slams shut, expression hurt. _ No. _ Len walks across the room in two long strides to sit next to Ray. He grabs Ray’s face and turns it towards his, looking him straight in the eye. “None of that was your fault. If you didn’t want to do it, then it wasn’t. Your. _ Fault _,” he snarls. Ray’s eyes are wide with shock.

“Okay,” he says after a moment. He frowns, eyes flickering across Len’s face, and Len suddenly comes to his senses. He quickly lets go of Ray’s face and jerks his gaze towards the floor. It needs a good sweep. “Thank you,” Ray says softly. “I really needed to hear that.” Len looks back at him and nearly jumps. Ray’s face is suddenly a lot closer to his.

He glances at Len’s lips, and Len has to fight back a flush. Okay. He’s down for this.

“So you escaped,” Len murmurs, dropping his eyelids. His heart is pounding.

“I did.” There’s that pride again. “I drugged him with his own drugs and ran. I’ve been here ever since.”

“How clever,” Len purrs, and his voice is soft. Ray leans in, but Len is the one to finish the distance.

It’s like coming home, sweet and safe, and Len cups Ray’s jaw to keep him there, to feel the sharp angles of it, to draw him closer. Ray has one large hand on Len’s waist, another on the back of his neck, and it feels _ good. _Ray tastes of coffee and something metallic, and when he moans into Len’s mouth his thoughts turn to mush.

It feels _ right. _

“_ So _ this _ is where you’ve been hiding, hm? _”

They jerk apart. Len’s blood turns cold, his skin breaking out into goosebumps and sweat. The voice resonates strangely, vibrating across the room, and it’s ear splittingly loud. Only Len’s pride keeps him from clamping his hands over his ears.

“What th--”

“_ I’m not impressed, little Razeal. Holing up with some human to avoid me? And _ sleeping _ with him? _ Pathetic _ . _”

“How did you find me?” Ray shouts, and his voice is tinged with fear. Len feels his heart beating faster and faster, unable to locate the source of the sound. What the hell was this?

“_ Oh, you always were a stupid one. _ ” Len can _ hear _ the smile in its voice, and he curls his lip at it. “ _ You said my name, fool. A demon always knows when he is called. _”

“I didn’t call you,” Ray says. He stands. Len stands with him, unable to keep himself from running his eyes over his figure, over his confident posture and serious expression. “I said your name. There shouldn’t be any power to that.”

The voice - it must be Neron, it _ has _ to be - laughs. “ _ Maybe I’m more powerful than when we last spoke. _”

Then a form shimmers into existence - a man, grinning smugly. He’s wearing a three piece suit, hair carefully combed back, and handsome. Len hates him on sight. He picks up the nearest item off of his nightstand and chucks it at Neron as hard as he can, hoping to at least daze him while they make their escape. 

Len’s copy of _ Ender’s Game _sails straight through Neron’s forehead. 

Neron looks distinctly upset, and Len frowns. He’d expected him to look smug about successfully avoiding injury. Ray, however, perks up.

“You’re not really here,” he says. “You have no idea where I actually am. You only know the inside of this room.” Neron scowls, and Len instantly knows Ray’s right - he’d been bluffing the whole time, probably trying to scare Ray out of hiding.

“_ That won’t be the case for long, _” he sneers, and then he’s gone.

-

“Does he know you’re Bonded?”

They’re all grouped into the living room again, Len and Ray having sprinted out of Len’s room and interrupting a hushed conversation between Mick and Lisa.

“Get John,” Len had barked once they’d burst in. Lisa hadn’t even whined about being bossed around.

“He just talked out of his ass,” Len says. “Insulted and threatened us - not that he could have actually _ done _anything.”

“Does he know you’re Bonded?” John repeats, loudly. Len glares at him, but he softens it once he recognizes the urgency in John’s eyes.

“He didn’t say anything about it,” he says, and John sags with relief. He allows himself to fall into the armchair behind him, rubbing his eyes tiredly. How very dramatic.

“At least there’s that,” John says.

“I’m guessing letting that out into the open would be bad,” Len drawls, and John looks at Ray.

“I thought you explained the rules, squire,” he says. 

“I did!”

“If I die, Ray dies,” Len says, realization dawning on him. “And I’m guessing it’s a whole lot easier to kill a mortal than a demon.”

John points at Len. “Bingo.”

“But he doesn’t actually know where we are,” Ray says. “We’re safe--”

“For now,” John interrupts. “He has a sense for you, now. He’ll take much less time to find us now that you’ve invoked his name.”

“But I didn’t invoke it,” Ray says, upset. “I just _ said _it, it shouldn’t work like that!”

“If we’re talking about the same demon,” John says. “It doesn’t matter.”

Both Ray and Len stare. “You know Neron?” Ray asks. Len nearly flinches before he remembers Ray saying that the name shouldn’t have _ any _power now that they’ve used it.

“He’s been fighting to overthrow the Triumvirate for a long time,” John says, voice tired. “It would be hard for me not to know the bastard.”

“So you know how to fight him?” Lisa asks hopefully.

John shakes his head. “Just the normal demon business. I haven’t found anythin’ powerful enough to completely banish Neron from the mortal plane.”

“So, you’re useless,” Mick says, and John rolls his eyes.

“You’re one to talk,” he shoots back, and Len steps in between them before they can really get into it.

“Alright, stop flirting,” he says. “We need to come up with a plan. I don’t plan on dying just yet.”

“I’ll need to find some ingredients,” John says. “There’s this spell - I haven’t gotten round to it yet, mostly because Neron hasn’t been bothered poke his nose out recently. It’ll take some time.”

“‘Some time’?” Len repeats.

“‘Round a week.” John stands, brushing off his trousers. “Neron shouldn’t be able to make his move until much later.”

“Can I help?” Ray asks, expression eager. “I am a demon, after all.”

“If you haven’t been able to fight him off before now,” John says, eyes sympathetic. “My guess is no.”

“What are the rest of us supposed to do while you’re gone?” Lisa asks. “Just act normal?”

“Exactly. The less conspicuous you are, the better.” John starts heading off towards his bedroom and pauses. “Just - stay off of the news, will you?”

-

There’s a heist that Friday planned, so they go ahead and do it, following John’s orders to ‘act normally’. It’s strange to not be the expert, but Len can deal with it. For Ray.

They actually move through the heist smoothly, Ray sticking close to his side and never straying - even for the new dinosaur bones. Honestly, Len is flattered.

“Remember,” Len says - more purrs, really. He makes sure to get close to Ray’s ear. “You get a reward if we can make it through this with the diamonds.”

Ray’s blush runs all the way up his neck and to his ears. “I don’t remember you saying that,” he says stiffly, and Len huffs a laugh.

“Well, I certainly _ meant _ to.”

They’re near the exit to the stairs, diamonds safe in Len’s pocket. Ray had claimed he could unlock the doors faster with his powers than Len with his lockpicks, and so _ Len _ is the one waiting behind _ Ray, _waiting for him to finish his criminal act. The whole thing is, unfortunately, very hot. That, and the taste of success being so close has put Len in a certain mood. Plus, he likes flustering Ray.

The lock pops. Ray grins at Len, a big dopey smile that quickly turns dirty. “I’ll be looking forward to that reward,” he says lowly. It’s a little clunky, but smooth enough that Len can’t help but grin at him.

He leans in a little, and Ray raises an eyebrow. “Are you about to kiss me?”

“We _ are _certainly very close,” Len murmurs, and he’s about to close the distance when Lisa crackles in on the comms.

“Did you guys forget we were on radio, or?” she says, tone disgusted, but Len can hear the teasing smile in it. Ray blushes fifty shades of red.

“If I wanted to watch porn, I wouldn’t be here,” Mick grumbles, and Len rolls his eyes.

“_ Apologies _,” he says, a little annoyed. “We’ll meet you down in the main hall in five.”

Ray heaves a calming breath, color slowly returning to normal. Len smirks at him.

“Alright. Let’s get a move on.”

“So that we can continue this sooner?” Ray asks hopefully. Len’s heart skips a beat with a feeling he’s a little afraid to name. He’ll call it affection, for now.

“Of course,” Len drawls, and Ray starts down the staircase with no further hesitation. Len allows himself a small smile before he follows.

About halfway down, they hear a loud crash and a screech that has to be Lisa. Len’s heart stops.

“What was that?” Ray asks, freezing. Len doesn’t answer, mostly because he’s running down the stairs, skipping several steps at a time in his panic. He can’t be bothered to worry about whether Ray will catch up or be dragged. Lisa was _ hurt, _or at least afraid.

Even running, it takes them way longer to get all the way down than Len wants. He bursts out the stairwell door and runs a little ways into the great hall before stopping, taking stock of the room and scanning for Lisa.

It’s hard to see in the dark, but it doesn’t take long to notice the gaping hole in the ceiling. Len follows the dust still floating from it to a pile of rubble next to the T-Rex display at the other end of the hall. In it, Neron stands, holding Lisa off of the ground by the throat. Her legs are kicking at the demon, but he holds firm, and Len is running before he even thinks to move. He can just barely hear Ray’s footsteps behind him.

“Let _ go _of her!” he snarls, sprinting over to them. Screw getting caught - Neron’s probably already set of five alarms with his grand entrance anyway. Len pulls out his gun as he runs and fires straight at Neron, charge at full blast.

The charge reaches the demon at record speed, but the demon still catches it in his hands, the beam balling up strangely in his palms. But he has to let Lisa go to do it, and Len is watching her, not Neron, when Neron fires the charge back at Len. 

The charge must lose most of its chill upon contact with a representative of the hottest place in the universe, because Len is still alive when it blasts him across the room, and very decidedly unfrozen. 

It _ does _ knock the breath out of him, however, and he knows Ray was dragged with him as he flew across the hall. He gasps for breath on the cold tile, legs refusing to cooperate when he tries to stand back up. He hears footsteps coming towards him, and they’re too precise to be Ray’s. He hears a thud and a small grunt. _ Ray. _

Suddenly, there’s a hand at his throat. Len scrambles to get away, but Neron is frighteningly unyielding as he lifts Len to his feet, squeezing but not tightly enough that Len can’t speak.

“I’ll admit,” Len manages around his own wheezing. “I expected you to find a flashier way to kill me.”

Neron smirks. “I’ve found that the basics work just fine.” And then he lifts Len off of the ground.

It _ hurts. _Len has been choked before, by enemies, by rogue team members, by his own father, but never by someone strong enough to hold him up with one hand. It’s terrifying, Len’s legs kicking uselessly at Neron’s, and Len feels like his head is going to burst.

“Not so clever now, are we?” Neron sneers. Len has to strain to hear him over his own choking noises. “I -- _ wait. _”

Neron looks at him, this time closely, this time _ hunting _for something. He rips his glove off of the hand not holding Len with his teeth, and he slaps his palm onto Len’s forehead. Len cringes away from the touch, revulsion nearly overcoming him. 

“Why, what is this?” Neron asks, incredulous laughter bubbling over into his words. “A Bond? You _ would, _wouldn’t you, Razeal?”

“No,” Ray says, and out of the corner of his eye, Len can see him getting up on the floor with effort. He starts towards them, but Neron starts squeezing harder. Len can’t help the pained noise that escapes him. Ray stops in his tracks.

“Let’s take a minute to figure out what this means for us,” Neron says, looking at Ray. He looks pleased with himself, and Len curls his lip. He cranes to see Ray’s face, but he can’t. “If I remember correctly, he dies, you die, right?”

Ray says nothing, and Len feels something like panic squirm in his gut. “Right. Now, there’s no question that it would be very easy to crush his throat,” he gives Len a little teasing squeeze, and he nearly blacks out. “And get this all over with. The only question is - would that be a _ satisfying _way to end our little parlay?”

“Please,” Ray says desperately, and Len wants to kick him. _ Do you _ want _ him to get something out of this? _ He wants to scream. _ Do you _ want _ to make this satisfying for him? _

Neron smiles, expression hungry. “Oh, I _ do _ like to hear you beg,” he says. He looks at Len thoughtfully. “You’re right. I think I’d rather go for the real thing.” He flings Len away from him, and Len hits a wall. _ Hard. _

He feels something crunch in his shoulder just before his head smacks against the marble. The world turns black for a moment.

By the time he manages to blink his eyes open and actually get them to _ focus, _Neron has Ray by the wrists, knuckles white with the force he’s gripping Ray with. They’re at the very edge of the Bond’s limits, and Len can feel it like a rope stretched taut between them. 

He tries to force himself up, but one of Neron’s hands shoot out, and he’s slammed into the floor, once, twice, and then three times before he’s held there by what feels like an invisible wall. Len curls his fingers in - a vain effort to fight off the pain. He’s fine. He coughs, and his spit is a little red.

He’s fine.

Lying to himself is _ not _helping with the pain, he is quickly discovering.

“_ Len, _” Ray practically sobs, and he jerks against Neron’s hold. Neron remains unmoving.

Len has never felt so helpless against something. He watches, useless, as Neron draws Ray closer, as he starts murmur something, as Ray starts to look hollow around the eyes and as his cheekbones start to look less sharp and more concave--

“_ Oi! _” 

Neron whips his head around at the same time Len does. 

John Constantine is standing at the other end of the hall, Mick at his side. Mick dwarfs him, but he still radiates a strange power, fire engulfing one fist. His other hand is holding something Len can’t quite make out.

Len looks back at Neron, who has straightened in surprise. Ray, he’s relieved to find, has filled back out again. Neron must be distracted, although he still has Ray in his iron hold.

“John Constan--” The demon starts, voice a smug drawl, but John flings a fine grey powder over him before he can finish. “_ What _are you doing?” His voice is suddenly a panicked snarl. John smirks.

“You should know,” he says, accent as ridiculous as ever. “You’re the bastard I learned it from.” Len gets the feeling that he isn’t talking to Neron, and he doesn’t miss the flicker of sadness that comes across John’s face. Neron just barely has enough time to give John a look of stunned realization before John blows, and he’s gone. 

Len gasps as the wall vanishes with him. Len wants desperately to go check on Ray, but he can’t bring himself to move. There’s a moment of tense silence.

“Boss?” Mick says, voice suddenly a lot closer. Len grunts.

“Alive,” he says, because even _ he _ isn’t a good enough liar to pass off ‘I’m fine’. 

“I’m so sorry,” Ray says wretchedly, kneeling beside him. Len slowly turns over on his back, and tears of pain prick at his eyes. He glares past them.

“For what, pray tell?” he asks through gritted teeth. His shoulder is definitely dislocated. Possibly fractured.

“I lead him here,” Ray says. “I put you all in danger--”

“You can’t help it,” Len snaps. This is all bullshit. He grabs Ray’s hand to drive his point home, trying to make him meet his eyes without being able to grab his face. “It’s not your fault we--”

“But what if I _ can _help it?” Ray asks, and Len stares at him.

He takes his hand off of Ray’s. Ray looks briefly hurt, but Len is too busy sorting through his sudden onslaught of feelings. “What?”

“I could break it,” Ray swallows. “The Bond, I mean.”

“_ What _ ?” Len snarls more than says, and he can feel the anger and betrayal stirring in his gut. He pushes the hurt deep down - he should have known better than to let someone in. Should know better than to let himself get _ soft. _

“Well, that’s a stretch,” Ray says quickly. “I have a _ theory _ about how to break the Bond. It could be risky. It _ is _risky.”

Len takes a moment to calm himself down. This is too much. “Does this risk factor happen to be the fact that you might die?” he asks as calmly as he can manage. He’s slightly impressed with himself when it halfway passes.

Ray’s eyes slide somewhere to the left of Len’s head. “Maybe. But!” His eyes slam back to Len’s. “It won’t kill you! That’s what matters.”

“No,” Len says, getting angry again. “That’s not--”

“But hopefully it won’t happen like that,” Ray interrupts. “If my plan works.”

“And your plan _ is _?” Len asks, completely unimpressed. No way is he letting this happen. If this goes wrong - he doesn’t want to think about it. He finds that he doesn’t want to think about what it means if it goes right, either.

"If breaking the bond saves your life," Ray says, "then the bond will release by itself. It’s delicate and paradoxical, but that's just being a demon!" He’s trying to sound cheerful, but he’s failing miserably at it. It makes Len’s heart hurt.

Jesus. There’s no coming back from this - these _ feelings. _ At least, not easily.

"No," he says, putting as much steel as he can into it. "It's too risky. John can--"

"I can’t do anything," John says. "_ That _would be too risky. This, though - this could work."

Mick nods, and Len looks at him darkly. "At least I know where your loyalties lie," he sneers, and Mick rolls his eyes.

"Weasel's an expert," he says bluntly. "You're not."

Ray nods. "Alright," he says, taking in a deep breath. "Here goes nothing."

And he starts hammering into the air, right in front of his chest. Len feels something rattle within him with every blow.

"Wait," he says, sounding more desperate that he would like. He tries to lift himself up, but he nearly blacks out again. "Ray, _ stop _\--"

Something shatters, and Ray stops hammering. It's an awful feeling, like Len’s heart has just leapt out of his chest and crashed to the tile. Maybe it has. 

One look at Ray's face says he feels the same. "_ Ray _," Len breathes. He’s angry, but he can’t quite hide the hurt that’s also there. Ray flinches, and Len just barely has enough time to see the tears in his eyes before he turns his head away.

“Leonard Snart,” he says, voice a little wobbly, “you are released from my bond." He sounds devastated as he says it, betraying his otherwise blank expression. 

Len lets his head fall back on the floor, wincing when it jostles his ribs. "Jesus Christ," he says viciously to the ceiling. "You're an _ idiot _."

"I know," Ray says somberly. The agreement just makes Len angrier.

"So, what now? You gonna go face Neron on your own? Get yourself killed? All in the name of ‘keeping us safe’?" he says icily.

"Len--"

"You think he won’t go after us once you're gone? Not all demons are like you, Ray, in fact, _ none _ of them are. That’s your whole schtick, right?"

"Lenny," Mick says quietly, and Len allows himself to look at Ray. He looks crushed.

_ Good _, he thinks, and he shoves his guilt down with the rest of his feelings. 

"We can help," John says, from somewhere to his right. "I have a spell or two, now that you two are separated fr--"

"No," Ray says. "No one else gets hurt by Neron except me. I'm the one he wants? I'm the one he'll get."

Len opens his mouth to snap at him again when sirens start echoing in the distance. They don’t provide the adrenaline rush they usually do. Shocking.

He's surprised the Flash hasn't made it yet.

"You guys need to get out of here," Ray says.

Len lifts himself up onto his elbows, ignoring the pain. He has a sickening feeling that they won’t be seeing Ray again if he somehow teleports them anywhere. "Ray--" He’s cut off by his own gasp of pain, his ribs shifting strangely, and suddenly Ray is right next to him.

"You're going home," he says, voice brokering no argument. He places a hand on Len’s arm. It’s big and warm and _ safe, _but Len doesn’t get the chance to enjoy it.

The world almost immediately turns into a whirlwind of black and shimmer, a roaring noise filling his ears. Through it, he thinks he hears something.

_ I love you. _

Before he can even begin to process it, he’s sitting on the couch in the safehouse. 

He’s alone.

-

Len has to watch John, Mick, and Lisa all pop into the safehouse one at a time, Ray clearly still there but never showing his face. It hurts, and it pisses Len off. He chooses to focus on his anger.

Lisa is the last one to appear in a cloud of black ash, and Len has half a hope that Ray will pop in again, with the jewels, maybe, and they’d make a plan all together. They all sit and wait, for a little while - Len counts seven minutes. Ray never comes.

It was stupid to hope, anyway. 

“He’s not coming,” Mick says, and Len sneers at him.

“Keen observation,” he says, and he instantly feels guilty. He looks away from Mick and instead locks eyes with John, who looks like he’s ready for a fight.

“We’re going after him,” he says, and John frowns. 

“As long as Neron wants him, I’m not sure--”

“He’s keeping Neron off our backs,” Mick interrupts, voice a little meaner than it probably would have been if Len hadn’t snapped at him. “We should be grateful, not stupid.”

“Exactly,” John says, clearly relieved that he hadn’t been the one to say it. “He’s giving us a chance to have a go at Neron. This is a chance we won’t have again.”

“I am _ not _ leaving him to die,” Len snarls. “We’re going to _ find him. _”

John looks at him. “I hadn’t pegged you for a man who cares about his team,” he says, some strange mix of admiration and annoyance coloring his voice.

“We have a code,” Len says icily. “I know ‘loyalty’ isn’t exactly in your vocabulary, so I get it if it’s hard for you to understand.”

John actually looks hurt at the comment, looking away from Len and down towards the floor. “Fine,” he says, after a moment. His voice is sharper than it’d been before. “But it’s goin’ to be hard to find the big man, especially if he doesn’t want to be found.” He looks around at all of them. “It’s goin’ to be even harder if he wards against us, specifically.”

“Ray wouldn’t do that,” Lisa says, voice surer than Len feels.

“Wait a minute,” Mick says. “So we’re finding Haircut anyway?”

“I suppose we are,” John sighs, and Len ignores the anger that stirs at the exchange. They were cooperating. If he pushes either of them too far, they’ll bolt. 

“So how will we find him?” Len asks, and John sighs again.

“We burn one of his belongings,” he says. “Usually a t shirt will do.”

Easy. Len just has to - wait. “We don’t have any,” Len says. “He just-” he snaps his fingers, and John nods. 

“He materializes them,” he says, and Mick makes an ‘ahhh’ sound.

“Like Thor,” he says, and John looks confused.

“You’ve met-?”

“Jesus, haven’t you ever seen a movie?” Lisa asks, and John frowns, turning towards her.

“Of course I’ve--”

“So what are we going to do?” Len asks loudly, anger and worry making an unpleasant cocktail in his stomach. He was going to murder Ray once they’ve saved him. “We don’t have any clothes, he didn’t bring anything--”

“I have a way,” John interrupts, and the only thing that keeps Len from snapping at him for it is the expression on his face. It’s sad, incredibly so, and a little bit pale. He refuses to meet anyone’s eyes. “I can track Neron.”

Len stares at him. He assumes Lisa and Mick do, too. “What, you have some sort of magic demon powder or something?”

“No, I--” John cuts himself off, looking frustrated and a little bit like he’s about to cry. “I knew him.”

“Neron?”

“His vessel,” John says.

“Vessel,” Len repeats blankly. “Ray didn’t mention--”

“Neron’s a different sort of demon,” John says, drawing himself up. “He’s grown too powerful for his true form to appear normal, so he steals others. This one was - he -” John takes a deep breath. “I loved him. Neron took him from me.” He curls a lip, hatred glittering in his eyes. “He thought it would be _ funny. _”

“John,” Lisa says gently. “I’m so sorry. We didn’t know.”

Len, selfishly, only thinks, _ Ray could be next. _

“Well,” John says, “nothing we can do about it now. Believe me, I’ve tried. Now,” he grabs a book off the shelf. “I have some old jumpers of his. We can use those.” He grabs a few more books and moves into the kitchen with them. He slams them all on the table. “But for now, we make our plan of attack.”

“Because if we find Neron,” Lisa says.

“He’ll lead us to Ray,” Len says. 

“And we’ll need to be prepared,” John adds, and he spreads the books out on the table. “Pick one. Scan for battle tactics against a class B demon - the only way to get rid of him is to banish him to Hell, and there aren’t many ways to do that.”

“And you haven’t done this because…?” Len says, studying a dark green tome.  
“Banishin’ Neron means banishin’ Des,” John says shortly. “I couldn’t bring myself to do that to him.”

“You really loved him,” Lisa says softly. “Still do.”

“Focus,” Len says, voice a little sharp. This was making him think a little too much about what he has at stake. “Ray doesn’t have time for talking about our _ feelings _.”

Lisa glares, but John nods. “He’s right,” he says, sliding a red brick of a book towards her. “We need to hurry. Neron has Ray’s scent - it won’t take him long to track him down.”

Len’s gut twists at the thought, and he plunges into his chosen spellbook. They need to get to Ray - they _ have _to get to Ray.

Len needs to make sure what he heard in the vortex was real.

-

They find Neron with John’s least favorite of Des’ sweaters suspiciously easily.

John calls it a will-o-the-wisp, and all he has to do is light it on fire and blow on it in order to get it to lead the way. 

“He’s not far from here,” John says, frowning. The golden orb that is the will-o-the-wisp is hovering at the door, whirring around like a dog waiting for his master to take him on a walk. Len has no idea how he can tell whether Neron is near or far.

“Within walking distance?” Lisa asks, and Len grits his teeth at the sound of her voice. He hadn’t wanted her to come, especially once John described the things Neron was capable of, but she’d pushed herself in anyway.

“Well within it,” John says, looking up at the ceiling. Mick opens the door, and the wisp whips out, careening down the street. It stops at a lightpost suddenly, moving somewhat like how Len imagines a UFO would.

They just stand there for a moment, marveling at the little piece of magic like they do at most things John does, but Len can’t marvel for longer than three seconds.

He pushes past the three of them and races into the street, taking no time to look back and make sure the others are following. The fact that John thinks that Neron is close makes him nervous - something good can’t come out of having Neron as a next door neighbor. 

They chase the wisp down a few blocks towards an old printing press, and it shoots inside, heedless of the heavy metal doors leading inside. Len, vulnerable to the laws of physics, is forced to screech to a stop and mess around with the padlock of the chains strung between the handles. It gives the others a chance to catch up, and their hurried footsteps stop somewhere close behind him. 

“You brought your lockpicks?” Lisa asks in disbelief. Len shrugs, and allows himself a small grin when the lock pops under his coaxing.

“Always have ‘em,” he says. “Just in case.” He pushes the door open. It creaks loudly, and Len stops, not wanting to alert Neron of their presence just yet. 

“Hold on,” John says, and he cups his hand around his mouth, muttering something in a language Len can’t even identify. He blows over the hinges, a gold dust settling in its nooks and crannies. “It should be quiet, now.”

Len tests it tentatively. It glides open without a sound.

The wisp is waiting for them. It’s at the bottom of the stairs across the hall, and once they start moving towards it, it shoots up the steps and disappears. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Len says dryly. He starts heading up the stairs anyway, webbed metal surprisingly sturdy under his feet as he runs. He’s jogged up stairs for lesser reasons.

It leads them up all seven flights of stairs, and they’re all panting by the time they reach the top. John has even shed his coat. The wisp hovers, unwavering, at the door to the roof for a few seconds before bursting, golden wisps sinking down into the metal landing. 

“He must be on the roof, then,” John says. As if to underline his point, the door suddenly shakes in its hinges as something heavy rams into it on the other side, the loud _ bang _making them all jump.

“Thought you had more in you,” a voice says. It’s muffled, and clearly in pain, but Len instantly recognizes it as Ray’s. His heart drops in his stomach as he realizes what that means.

“He’s already found him,” he snarls, and he goes for the door. John grabs his sleeve before he reaches the handle. Len whips around to face him. “Ray is dying out there,” he hisses, “and you just--”

John puts his hands up, surrendering. “We need a plan of action,” he says. “Trust me, I’m not one to think very far ahead, but you are.”

Len lets out a breath, deflating a little. “Fine,” he says. It’s only a little sharp. “Any proposals?”

“I say what we came up with back at the safehouse,” Lisa says. “We three distract Neron - and protect Ray, in this case - and John sneaks behind him to work his magic.”

“You won’t be protectin’ the big man,” John says. “He may not be a powerful demon, but he’s got more power than three mortals. Your skills will best lie in distractin’ Neron.”

“Fine,” Len says again. “We all have our holy water?”

Lisa and Mick lift up their Nerf guns, which John had procured from the depths of his cluttered bedroom. 

“They’re useful for spraying holy water and all sorts of things,” John had said, passing a SuperSoaker to Mick and two smaller pistols to Lisa. He’d handed Len one that looked remarkably like the cold gun. “Chas bought a whole armory’s worth of ‘em back in the day.”

Len fingers his own gun. “John?” he asks.

John nods, touching the holy oil at his belt. Len takes a deep breath, and cracks open the door to get a feel for the space.

Neron is in the center of the roof, waving his hands at Ray, who is taking shots at him with a pistol Len had never seen before. At first, Len doesn’t quite understand what Neron is doing - then, he manages to hit Ray. 

It seems to just be a ball of sheer force, because it blasts Ray across the roof and into the chimney, bricks scattering everywhere with the force of the collision. 

Len shuts the door after that. He’s gotten a feel for it - and he doesn’t think he can watch anything else without the freedom to rush in and stop it from ever happening again.

“Neron’s in the center,” he says, turning back to look at John, Mick, and Lisa. “Luckily, his back is to us. Ray’s all over the place. Neron seems to have some sort of power, a sort of force ability. Stay away from him. John - you creep along this wall and set up shop there. Mick, Lisa - we go straight to Ray. If we’re all together, Neron won’t have a reason to look anywhere but us. Got it?”

“Got it,” Mick says, and Lisa nods.

John looks determined, but less like he’s going to win and more like he’ll fight until he dies. “For Des,” he says, and he wraps his hand around a medallion hanging from his neck. Len is curious, but he can bother him about it later. They have a demon to rescue.

Len misses robbing banks for his adrenaline fix.

“Alright,” he says. “Let’s go.” And he opens the door.

As they burst out, Len makes sure John is wedged in between Mick and Lisa before he scuttles along the wall, not wanting him to draw attention by being the last out. It seems almost pointless - Neron doesn’t even turn around, too focused on choking Ray with his strange powers. Len sees red.

He’s across the roof before he can even think the thought, and he’s a little horrified with how out of control he feels. He’s never been a slave to his anger, and it’s something he prides himself in. But the sight of Neron hurting anyone he loves makes all of that crumble.

“_ Neron! _” Len shouts, stopping in front of Ray. His thought was to cut off the line of contact between Ray and Neron, but he suspects Neron lets go of his hold more out of surprise than anything else.

“I wasn’t expecting company,” he says, and then he smiles. It’s ugly and frightening. “But a good host never rejects any guests.”

He flicks his wrist, and Len is slammed to the ground. He feels his bruised ribs crack with the force of it, and his vision goes briefly fuzzy. 

“Len!” Ray cries from behind him. He rushes to Len’s side, but Len is pinned with the force of Neron’s power. He can’t be helped as long as Neron’s attention is on him. Lisa seems to read his mind.

“_ Hey! _” she screams, and she fires a stream of holy water at Neron’s face. His skin sizzles and bubbles where it touches, and he screams furiously.

“Oh,” he says darkly, looking at Lisa and Mick. “I don’t think so.” He waves his hands, and their guns go flying off of the roof and down to the streets below. He sneers at them, and clenches his fists. Mick and Lisa go rigid, eyes darting around, panicked. “It was a neat trick,” he says, “but I’ve seen it before. Where is old Johnny, anyway?” He starts to turn his head, and Len’s heart leaps in his throat.

“Not here,” Len says, infusing as much bitterness in his voice as possible, like John had just up and left them. Neron’s gaze snaps to him. “Said he had ‘more important obligations’.” Lisa’s distraction had allowed Ray to help him up, and now he leans on him heavily, one arm slung over his neck. He has Ray - nothing else matters. Nothing is too big a risk if it’s in the name of saving Ray.

Neron laughs. “Sounds like him,” he says, and before he can say anything else, Ray is shooting him in the eye with Len’s water gun. 

The force of Neron’s scream shakes the entire building.

He looks up at them when he’s done, eye nearly completely gone, pleasant expression vanished. He growls at them. “_You’ll_ _regret that,_” he says lowly, and he lifts his fist. Lisa and Mick are lifted with it, and they slam to the ground. Rubble flies into the air.

Once the dust clears, Len can see that the force of it has knocked them unconscious. “You _ bastard, _” he snarls, and Neron laughs, this one a far cry from his usually smooth chuckle. It’s raw and hysterical, and Len nearly shrinks away from it. It’s frightening, and clearly insane.

“Let me help you out there, Razeal,” he says, and Len is ripped away from Ray, like an invisible rope has been tied around his waist. 

“_ Len! _” 

Neron draws him so close that their noses are nearly touching, so close that Len can smell his breath. It smells like blood. Neron puts his hand on Len’s throat. “Let’s finish what we started now, hm?” he says. “You may not be Bonded any more, but I’m sure this will still be painful for the both of you.” Len sneers in lieu of speaking, too busy choking to spit in Neron’s face like he wants.

“Let go of him!” Ray shouts furiously, and he runs for Neron, fist bursting into flame as he draws back to punch him. Neron puts out a hand, and Ray is stopped not five feet away from the two of them.

Neron chuckles. “Pathetic,” he says. “I can’t even commend you for trying. This is the worst thought out plan I’ve ever seen.”

Len knows it’s a mistake as soon as he does it. He lets his eyes flick to John, just once.

Neron sees.

He whips around, letting go of Len only to throw John against the wall he’d been working on, so hard that John immediately crumples to the ground without so much as a fighting word. The world seems to slow down.

For a moment, Len despairs. It’s him against Neron, and it’s not a fair fight. His team is down, his magician unable to complete his spell, and he is too injured to even fistfight Neron. He’s killed them all with his recklessness, something he’d never thought he’d be at risk of doing. But then, he looks at John’s spell, drawn out on the ground in blood from the cut on John’s palm.

He’d watched John closely during the planning stage, listened to him practice the words of the spell and the shape of it over and over until he had it completely memorized. By the time John had it down, Len had memorized the entire page of the book the spell had been on. 

As he looks at the sigil drawn out on the concrete, he can tell John was nearly finished. All he has to do is pour the holy oil in the center, and shout ‘discete’. _Get out. _

He maps out what he has to do, and it’s a long shot. 

It’s their only shot.

He leaps into action.

He pulls himself up from the ground, where he’d crumpled when Neron had let go of him. He takes advantage of Neron’s gloating over besting John, and he ducks under the arm outstretched to stop Ray, knocking it down as he darts towards John. With relief, he hears Ray finish his journey and crash into Neron before Neron can stop Len, and he can only hope that Ray knows what to do from here. Len just needs to get to that sigil.

Len suspects Ray’s powers get stronger with his anger, because he puts up more of a fight than he had been, just like the way he’d nearly slammed Len’s door off of its hinges when they’d argued. He makes a note to never make Ray angry, if they survive this.

He skids to a stop beside John’s crumpled form, grabbing the holy oil and checking his pulse. He’s alive.

He turns to the sigil, Ray and Neron’s shouting painting the background, and he hesitates. He’s never done magic before, never displayed the symptoms of being a witch or a wizard, never held an affinity for it like John clearly has.

“_ Anyone can do magic, _ ” John’s voice echoes in his head, even then reminding. “ _ You’ve just got to put in the work to do it. _”

Len had put in the work - he’d studied right there along with John. He can do this - and if he doesn’t, Ray will die. Lisa will die. Mick and John and _ Len _will die.

He pours the holy oil onto the sigil, and he slams his palm down. It instantly glows a bright gold. His eyes widen at the sight. He’s doing _ magic. _

“Just _ what _do you think you’re doing?” Neron snarls, and Len glances up. Ray is once again frozen in time, expression panicked, and Neron is raising a fist to do the same to Len. Len acts as quickly as he possibly can.

“_Discete_!” he screams, and Neron stops in his tracks, eyes widening with fear and surprise.

“_ No _,” he says, horror filling his voice.

“Oh, yes,” Len sneers, and he waves his hand in a circle. A fizzing, golden circle grows right in front of him, and it pulls Neron towards it, sucking him in like a blackhole.

“No,” he says, and he plants his feet. The ground grows to cover his shoes, and he stops moving. Len’s heart drops at the triumphant expression Neron makes.

Then, something strange happens.

Black smoke starts pouring out of Neron’s eyes, out of his nose and mouth and ears, and he screams as it starts swirling into the portal, faster and faster until a final trickle of smoke floats through the entrance to Hell. After it enters, the portal slams shut, and Neron’s body crumples to the ground. Or, if Len is right, _ Desmond’s _body crumples to the ground.

Len has half a mind to copy him.

“_ Len! _” Ray says, staring at the body on the ground, and Len looks up at his disbelieving expression.

“I think it’s safe to say he won’t be back anytime soon,” Len says, and Ray rushes towards him, grabbing his hands and running his eyes all up and down his body. “Slow down,” Len says, smirking. Relief is a cool trickle in his heart. “We have all night, no need to be hasty.”

“I’m checking for injuries,” Ray says, but he blushes anyway. “You have quite a few.”

“I’ll heal,” Len says dismissively, and Ray furrows his brow.

“You’ll need plenty of rest, and--”

“Hey,” Len interrupts. “Shut up.”

“I’m just glad you’re okay,” Ray exhales, and he tugs Len a little closer. Len takes one of his hands out of Ray’s and places it on his face, meeting his eyes.

“If you ever just leave like that again,” he says, voice calm. “I’ll kill you.”

Ray takes a deep breath. “Understood.”

Len allows himself to smile. Ray tugs him in for a kiss, and it’s like a balm against the last twenty four hours, and Len wants more, more, more. He’s just trying to deepen the kiss when Ray suddenly draws back, a concerned expression back on his face.

“You realize I owe you again, right?” he asks.

Len smirks. “Somehow, I don’t seem to mind,” he says, and he pulls Ray back into their kiss, sighing into it as Ray starts to kiss back.

He has no doubt Ray will make it up to him at some point.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed!
> 
> You can follow me on tumblr at @madprinceofdenmark - I am always open to scream about LoT.


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